Our Time Is Now
by Soxman
Summary: Time travel. One of the most well-known types of Harry Potter fanfiction. A different take on a familiar classic. No longer a one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Merry Christmas! Here's my take on an all too familiar plotline- Harry Potter time travel. One-shot… for now. I don't own Harry Potter.

It was not surprising that the auror section of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was nearly deserted as it approached midnight in London. What was surprising was that it wasn't completely deserted; two inhabitants remained. One was an old man with snow white, messy hair, a pair of spectacles that had only grown thicker over the years, and who was pouring over an endless stack of paperwork. The years apparently hadn't been kind to him as his face was worn and his nose looked like it had been smashed in by a baseball bat. On his desk, within the sea of endless forms, was a photo of five people standing together with wide smiles on their faces. One of the people was a beautiful woman with long red hair and chocolate brown eyes; his only daughter. Another two people were men with black hair, one had brown eyes, the other with green; his sons. Off to the side stood the man, his hair charcoal black and his eyes emerald green, with his arm around his wife, her hair red sprinkled with spots of grey and her eyes brown as a bear. It was the last photo the man had of his family all together and happy…

"Harry, you're still here this late?" A familiar voice called out to him. Harry lifted his head to see who was still here with him; Neville. Harry waved him over and beckoned to a chair, setting aside the form he had been filling out for the past twenty minutes. The new man with a round face and strands of white hair covering his head entered the room and took a seat opposite from Harry. Harry smiled internally at seeing old friend Neville Longbottom.

"Hey Neville," his voice was still strong, "How have you been?" He hadn't seen Neville in… months.

"I've been well. I was just reporting in; Kellsing asked me to leave a report about the Herbology conference in Beijing I attended last week." Harry had to mask his scowl; Alexeiander Kellsing was the new head of the department who had be trying to force him into retirement for the past few years. "How have you been, Harry?" Neville asked pointedly.

"Not well, Neville," Harry answered. "Kellsing has been trying to force me into retirement ever since I rejoined the aurors."

Neville stared. "Why would he want to take his best wand out of its holster?"

Harry sighed. "He's under the impression that because my movement has been hampered by time, I'm also no longer capable of taking down a platoon of dark wizards. So I've been on desk duty for the past nine months. Before this it was just the worst patrol routes with rookie partners."

"You could always become Headmaster of Hogwarts," Neville suggested innocently.

Harry glowered at him. "They've offered me that job for the past twenty years and I've said no every time. I can't believe how much of a figurehead position it is; I don't know how Dumbledore could have stood it!" His expression lightened. "Besides, I wouldn't want to force you into unemployment, Neville." His expression turned serious again. "But the position isn't that good; miserly pay, figurehead status, and no influence- unless of course your Dumbledore. In the only benefit would be accessing the Hogwarts libraries which is useless seeing as a friend of mine has granted me unlimited access to both the Hogwarts and Headmaster private library, and I've read every book at least seven times. At least you have lots of time with Hannah."

Neville smiled. "She wants you to come over for dinner Thursday night. I do too, but I know you'll be busy with your job, hobbies, and moping."

"Neville, I don't mope anymore," Harry countered bitterly.

"Really? That must be why you never dated anyone after your divorce," Neville commented airily.

"Neville, I am a few months from my one hundred and twentieth birthday. Despite Hannah trying to set me up with various witches, I am just not interested anymore. I haven't been interested since I got divorced…" he looked at his desktop calendar, "Seventy-five years ago." Harry tried and failed to look unconcerned.

"Face it Harry; you're still really bitter about your family. You caught Ginny, your first and only love, cheating on you with Michael Corner and then worked to destroy both your relationship with the Weasleys and your relationship with the children. In fact, you would have sabotaged your friendships as well if Draco and I hadn't stopped you. I agree with Hannah; as hard as it is, to see your wife now being called Ginny Corner, and to see your children grow up without you, you need to let it go. You aren't going to win by being bitter in your office at work. Besides, your kids don't hate you- they still want you in their lives. James is going to be at dinner on Thursday; he wanted me to make sure you were coming. You should come," Neville finished.

"Neville, I want to come, I really do, but my old friend from my days as ambassador to Magical America, Steven Lowell, is in town that night, and we're going to dinner," Harry explained sadly.

"You could bring him with you," Neville pointed out.

"Would Hannah be okay with that?" Harry asked hopefully.

Neville shrugged. "I don't know but I'll ask her." He shifted in his seat. "Invented anything new?"

"I lost interest after I learned there isn't a market for re-engineered muggle technology in the magical world; I'm only inventing things for me to use," Harry explained.

"It isn't healthy Harry," Neville said quietly. Harry glared at him. "For the past seventy years, you've thrown yourself into hobbies and study to dull the pain. You've studied more than most people have lived. And it's always something new to keep yourself occupied; working for the aurors, working for the department of mysteries, ambassador to America, wand for hire, curse breaker, the next Dumbledore, and the latest, inventor. We do this every time we see each other: you say something that attracts my attention, I try to help you, you pull away and we don't speak for several months before we start this all over again. You need to let go!"

Harry dismissed him with a wave. "Maybe I'll see you at dinner on Thursday. But I have to get back to this mound of paperwork."

Neville watched him sadly as he got up and walked to the door. As he was about to leave, he turned around and looked Harry in the eyes; then he silently shut the door and went on his way. Harry sighed and tried to return to his paperwork, but found he couldn't concentrate. He got up and began pacing to relieve the stiffness in his legs. As he limped around his office, his eyes fell on various mementos symbolizing his better times; His picture with magical America's president at the time, Joseph Goodman, for his twenty years of exemplary work in America. To the left of that photo was the group he'd signed on with to depose the South American dark lord Hermann Villanueva who seized Argentina in a coup some sixty years ago. Then there was his old cursebreaking groups, when he'd gone trekking throughout the Middle East, Africa, and the Americas in search of lost treasure. Many photos of himself with his children at intermittent parts of their lives, also decorated his wall. These photo garden was interrupted by a gigantic brass cabinet; Harry's award cabinet. Every award he'd ever received, from his Order of Merlin first class, to the Honored Colleague Award given to him by the CIA for his service to the American government, was in that cabinet.

The irony of the situation suddenly struck Harry; when he was young he'd dreamed about a family of his own, and how to avoid recognition and keep out of the spotlight. Now, he was a political activist, a frequent reward recipient, the most famous man in the magical world… and he had no family. His depressing train of thought was cut off by a silvery eel materializing through the wall.

"CHIEF AUROR POTTER, WE HAVE A BREAK-IN IN THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES. I AM OUTNUMBERED AND NEED REINFORCEMENTS URGENTLY." The eel faded away, but Harry didn't stick around lock enough to see it disappear. That was Stan Wilson's patronus; an unlucky auror assigned the night shift. He was also known for being extremely calm, so whatever it was that had panicked him so needed to be dealt with immediately. Despite the fact that he was over a hundred, he was at the atrium elevator within five minutes.

He pulled out his trusty phoenix feather wand that had served him well over the past century. He also unsheathed the dagger attached to his hip and placed it inside his robe pocket; he might need it for close combat. The elevator doors opened and Harry bolted out, down the corridor, through the door, and into the Department of Mysteries.

A scene of total devastation met his eyes. All the doors, except the door to the ever-locked room, had been blown off their hinges. Harry heard shouting, Wilson's shouting, coming from the time chamber. 'Time turners', Harry thought. The well-known magical device had been more in demand than ever before nowadays.

Harry raced into the time chamber. Many of the clocks that decorated the walls had been smashed. Wilson was lying slumped against one of the walls, blood pouring out of his chest, most likely from impacting glass from several of the shattered clocks. And in the center of the room were two people dressed all in black who'd turned upon hearing Harry's approach.

Harry had his wand out and was already casting the fire whip curse and slinging it in their direction. Being outnumbered, he needed a bit of crowd control. Sure enough, both of the black robe figures dived out of the whip's way; in separate directions. Harry ended the curse and targeted the one who'd dived to the right with a cutting curse. Its aim was true, and it hit the person's neck. With one down, Harry turned back to the other robed figure.

Harry's focus on killing the first intruder had given the second one time to formulate a response. He began banishing objects in the room at Harry. To shield himself from the cascade of broken clocks, Harry waved his wand and conjured wooden walls on all four sides. The clocks collided with his defensive walls with a thud, but the walls held. Suddenly, the walls were blown apart by a blasting curse, as Harry instinctively dived to the right. He cursed himself; he never should have impeded his own visibility.

The intruder had hidden himself. Harry cast the revealing charm, and saw the intruder standing by an undamaged cabinet near the entrance to the death room. Grinning to himself, Harry threw his most powerful blasting charm where the intruder stood. There was a sickening crunch and Harry knew that was the end of this incursion.

However, he'd underestimated the power of his blasting curse. Now only had it taken out the intruder, it took out the cabinet right next to it, smashing it and its contents to bits. A strange dust began seeping into the air. Time turners, Harry mouthed in horror. When they'd destroyed the ministry's stock in his fifth year, the residue had been contained in the cabinet. Now there was no cabinet. And the magical residue was quickly filling the air. The intruders and Auror Wilson wouldn't be bothered; it had been proven that time travel wouldn't work on the dead. He, however, was alive…

Harry began running back to the entrance of the department. He couldn't outrun time. The dust quickly caught up with him, and Harry felt like he was choking, like he was being squeezed. He shut his eyes as he felt his body shrinking. It sounded like a mighty river was rushing past him. Harry couldn't speak; he could barely even breathe. And then suddenly, he felt as if he was being slammed into the Earth as his feet hit the ground with a mighty thud. Harry knew no more.

* * *

"Up! Get up! Now!" Harry drowsily opened his eyes. He was in a dark room; a small dark room. He tried to reach for the light; but he found that A. there was no light, and B. he would have been too short to reach it if there had been one. Too short? Harry took his hand to examine it, though it was a struggle to make it out amidst the blurry outline. He really needed his glasses. He reached around for them and after finding them, pushed them onto his face. The results blew his mind.

Now that he could properly see his hand, he understood why he couldn't reach a hypothetical lighting fixture. He was smaller; much smaller. And his glasses… he ran a finger along the bridge of the glasses… tape! His glasses hadn't been held together by tape since…

"No!" he said out loud, in a tone of pure shock. He was much smaller, sleeping in a small dark room, and his glasses had tape. Could it be… The magical blast coupled with the ruined time-turners might have…

"Are you up yet?" a voice from outside demanded. His Aunt. It was true. He was eleven again. But if it was true, did that mean that he…? He held out a hand, willing his socks to come to him. A second later, his three pairs of socks were in his hand. Harry almost felt like cheering. He still had his magic, even if he had to go through all this crap again.

Armed with magic, Harry had no problem shouting back, "Go fuck yourself!" to his Aunt. The cupboard door unlocked with his Aunt angrily looking in.

"What did you just say?" she shrieked.

Harry held out the palm of his hand, from which sprang a flame. "You heard me, Auntie Dearest," Harry sang happily. He was definitely not putting up with their shit. Not this time.

Petunia shrieked and jumped back. "VERNON! VERNON!" she screamed hysterically. The fat man waddled in from the kitchen. She gestured at Harry.

"Pick a card, any card," Harry said, materializing a deck of 52 in his hand. Vernon jumped back in horror as Harry vanished the cards. "Now that I have your attention, I would like to inform you that I will be moving to Dudley's second bedroom; immediately. I'm pretty sure you're now aware that your attempts to, what was it, 'beat the magic out of me' have failed. I certainly hope you can accept defeat gracefully."

Vernon and Petunia stared at him dumbfounded. Harry sighed; of course, how could he forget, they were bloody fools.

"Let me use smaller words. Harry can do magic. I finally got my magic working, today. You know, the thing that you were deathly afraid of. So, now that I have the power, and you don't, I will be moving to Dudley's second bedroom. Think of it as my birthday present to Dudley," Harry commented airily.

With that, Harry waved his hand and began levitating all of his belongings from his cupboard and towards the second bedroom. With magic, it was easy to set up the room the exact way Harry liked it; putting his close in the closet, fixing the various appliances in the room, and dusting it as he went. And because it was wandless, the ministry would never know. Upgrading the ministry's underage magic detectors, Harry had to remind himself, was a proposal shot down 38 times. Either make it so that you know if an underage wizard is doing magic, or do away with the rule altogether, Harry had commented when his proposal was shot down time and time again.

He walked back down stairs five minutes later to find the Dursleys, minus their son, still staring at the spot where he'd performed magic in abject horror. "If you keep doing that, your face is going to stick," Harry commented.

They finally resumed their partial brain functions and shifted to stare at Harry. "How?" Vernon choked out.

Harry grinned. "Magic." He watched his relatives flinch. He cleared his throat. "Now then; I have magic. I can use magic. You can't. So things will be changing. Firstly, I'm not your slave anymore. In fact, I've done enough work these past eleven years that I think it's time Dudley started chipping in. Never-the-less, no matter how sweet revenge will be, I won't have taste it. Be grateful. However, I won't put up with any of your… freakishness, from now on."

"YOU'RE THE FREAK!" screamed Vernon as his face went purple.

"Yes, because normal people are child-abusers," countered Harry. "Please stop talking; every time you talk, I feel like I'm losing ten I.Q. points. Now then, I'm certain that when my eleventh birthday, search your records for when that is because I'm sure you don't remember, comes around, I will be getting some sort of invitation to a magical school. That will mean that for nine and a half months, I'm gone. During the time I'm here, I won't bother you, and you won't bother me if you don't want to know what being a toad feels like. Comprende?" The Dursley's didn't say anything, so Harry reconjured his deck of cards, and morphed then into an army of knives. "I asked if you understood." The Dursleys nodded hurriedly, so Harry vanished the knives. "Oh, and you get to explain everything to Dudley."

Dudley's birthday breakfast had a very strange atmosphere. Dudley noticed how subdued his parents were, but didn't know why. Harry smirked as his Aunt put her rusty cooking skills to use burning the bacon. Vernon sat quietly, not saying anything. And Harry sat smirking like a chesire cat as Dudley began opening his presents.

Dudley's birthday was largely the same as Harry remembered, except for the Dursleys shouting at him. He still trapped Dudley in the Boa Constrictor's cage when the pig pushed him to the ground. Piers Polkiss still commented on the fact that Harry chatted with the snake. This time, the Dursleys couldn't punish him. However, once they had arrived back at Privet Drive, there was a visitor waiting for him. Neville.

"Neville, what are you doing here?" Harry said cautiously as he approached his best friend in another life.

"I hate time-turners," Neville grumbled in response.

Harry froze. He turned to the Dursleys. "Leave," he commanded softly, as Vernon and Petunia grabbed their son and scurried into the house. He turned back to Neville. "You were there?" he whispered.

"Of course I was there! I saw Wilson down, and you killing the intruders. Next thing I know, I'm waking up to my old house elf announcing breakfast. I decided to hop over to where you grew up and see what kind of mess you've gotten me into this time," Neville finished.

"Seeing as you're the time magic expert-"

Neville interrupted him. "How am I a time magic expert?"

Harry stared at him incredulously. "Need I remind you of the whole time magic episode where you were obsessed with the art because one of the healers revealed that avenue of inquiry might hold a cure for your parents? Nearly broke apart your marriage with Hannah; ring any bells?"

Neville blushed and looked away. "All I know is that seeing as the time-turner, or time-turners in this case, probably didn't remain intact, where shouldn't be bound by the usual rules of time travel, like no major changes to the past. Still, we should probably try and keep the timeline in tact-"

"Why?" Harry blurted out. Neville stared at him. "No really, why? As far as I know, I have still retained all the power I had before I left, and I pretty sure you did as well. As I recall things didn't turn out so great. My life sucked, my marriage fell apart, I can't stand being in the same room as my children, and Britain never really recovered from Voldemort. Why do we want things to end up the same?"

"I had it pretty good," declared Neville indignantly. "Sure Hannah and I had some rough patches, and my children weren't perfect, but then again, I wasn't perfect either. Do you think you can do it better?"

"Than Dumbledore," Harry clarified. Neville nodded. "Hell yes! Preserving the timeline and all that bunk…. No, hell no! Think how many people died! Think how unstable Britain was for fifty years afterwards! Think how many people lived short, miserable lives after the war. Wasn't Hannah depressed for thirty months after the final battle?" Neville nodded. "Nev, we can do it better. We just gotta think outside the box. Just because a few people had it good last time, do you think we should deny so many more a chance at happiness?"

'I don't know, Harry," Neville admitted. "You make a good point, but still, knowing how we two operate, there's a chance we could wreck everything."

"Nev, when I remember back to when Voldemort was in power for that one year, and all those muggleborns were killed, I think there is such a chance to do better, to save lives. Besides, if you're waiting around for everything to go back to normal, consider this: the Hannah you know is gone. She will never be the same. Waiting around for the impossible to happen doesn't seem like something a Longbottom would happen. Think about it, we can make our own destiny. The future is ours. Are you in?" Harry asked eagerly.

Neville was quiet for a moment. He was thinking about his life, being mocked throughout Hogwarts, fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters, marrying Hannah, having children, becoming the Herbology professor, then Deputy Headmaster, and finally reaching the pillar of excellence; Headmaster. His thoughts crashed as he remembered all the work he had to do to get Hogwarts up to scratch with the rest of the world. It seemed like an impossible task, but Harry was right, they could do better; much better. It was hard to imagine a worse ending.

He turned back to Harry. "I'm in," he declared quietly. Harry's maniacal laugh was the first indication Neville had that it might not be smooth sailing from here on.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Yes, I am finally expanding this story. Like I said (on my profile; or maybe meant to say) I have to lay the groundwork with this story before I get to posting ten-thousand word chapters. I think after one or two more chapters like this, it will really get going… I hope. Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the other ideas and inventions mentioned in the chapter. And I definitely don't own any Chuck Norris jokes (Okay Chuck, you can lower your foot- LOWER YOUR FOOT!) Finally, I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter Two: Analyzing Strengths And Weaknesses

"You know Neville, I don't think I've ever been more grateful for a ride on the Knight Bus," Harry told Neville as he slung the backpack filled with the few pairs of clothes he was taking with him over his shoulder. "Oh course, when we finally get to your Gran's house, we are going to have to make something up about why you stole her wand, traveled out to meet me, and why I'm now with you." Neville opened his mouth. "Something other than the truth, Neville! Really, what kind of moron blatantly tells people he traveled through time!"

Neville sighed and shook his head dejectedly. "Harry, you know that the one thing I was always incapable of doing was lying to my Gran." He held out the waved to signal for the bus.

"Okay here's a lie that will work. You had a vision-" he saw Neville's look. "Stop that! You had a vision of a young boy wandering along a country road. So you took her wand, and went to meet the boy, and found out that he was Harry Potter. Look, you don't even have to pretend to be the seer; I can say I sent somehow sent the vision, and you received it."

Neville shrugged. "Well at least it sounds better than, 'Gran, I took your wand, stole some of you gold, used the Knight Bus, met up with my new best friend Harry Potter, and brought him back from his abusive relatives," he muttered.

"That's the spirit!" Harry cheered.

"I know I'm going to regret this," Neville declared as the Knight Bus materialized in front of them.

The Knight Bus was surprisingly empty. So surprisingly empty that within twenty minutes Harry and Neville stood in front of "Longbottom Manor."

"Where's the manor?" Harry asked; staring at the small country house Neville called home. It was a nice house, but Neville had spoken of growing up in a manor.

Neville shrugged. "Manor/country house- I sometimes get them confused." He smiled. "By the time I became Herbology professor, it was a manor."

"I'm not going to inconvenience your Gran, am I," Harry asked.

Neville smiled. "No, Harry, I don't think you will," he said as he knocked on his front door.

A moment later, the door was opened, and the tall, thin woman Harry knew in another lifetime stood before them; stuffed vulture hat and all. She seemed startled at seeing Neville with another boy his own age.

"Neville Longbottom! Where were you, boy! Do you know how worried I was? And who is this?" she snarled, gesturing to Harry.

Neville shrugged calmly, which seemed to throw his Grandmother off. "I had a- vision, I guess. I saw a young boy walking down a country lane, and I knew I needed to meet him; hence taking the wand and the money. I took the Knight Bus. ay I introduce you, to Harry Potter."

The mere mention of his name was enough to forestall Augusta Longbottom's tirade. She leaned down towards Harry, as if inspecting him. Her eyes widened when they fell upon the famous scar, and she quickly ushered them both inside.

"Harry Potter! My word- such an honor. It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter," Madam Longbottom declared in a rush.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Longbottom," Harry said with a bow. "Neville has told me so much about you. I don't mean to impose, but…"

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter; nonsense," She declared. She stopped, as if a thought suddenly occurred to her. "What were you doing- wandering out on a country road?" she asked suspiciously.

"Running away from my relatives," Harry shrugged. He saw Augusta Longbottom staring at him. "Whoever the moron was who decided placing me with muggles who hate magic was a bright idea; he needs to be shot," Harry snapped defensively.

"I am so sorry- I didn't mean to-"

"It's all right," Harry soothed. "Suffice it to say, I need a place to stay, and my good friend Neville offered me one. I hope that isn't a problem."

"Not at all, Mr. Potter- no problem at all." Another thought seemed to occur to her. "You are very well-spoken for a child."

"Thank you, madam. Spending years of your life in a library is good for something," Harry replied. Harry made a show of looking around. "Your home is quite lovely, madam."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," She replied. "Would you like some supper?"

"That would be lovely," Harry replied. As Madam Longbottom bustled away to get dinner prepared, Harry turned to Neville and winked.

"How did you-"

"It's a gift, Neville," Harry replied softly.

Dinner with the Longbottoms was much different from any other family dinner Harry had ever taken part in. Both Neville and Augusta were silent throughout their meal, only speaking to politely request that a dish be passed their way. The only sounds were the constant clinking and clattering of the silverware. It was more awkward and uncomfortable than any meal Harry had ever sat through. Though the food was pretty good, even if the company was not. When it was finally over, he almost hopped up and down in relief.

* * *

Later that night, he and Neville retired to Neville's room, where Madam Longbottom had placed all his things and erected a bed for him. Before they could rest, though, they needed to figure how they were going to do things, this time around. With a wave of his hand, Harry silenced the door.

"Okay Neville, now that we have a base of operations, and I use that term loosely, it's planning time," Harry declared as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"Okay, so all we have to do is take over the ministry, revolutionize Hogwarts, defeat Voldemort, stamp out corruption, and, most importantly, not have our lives suck after all is said and done," Neville asked.

"All we have to do?" Harry clarified. "Those are the overall objectives- we need to build up to that point. Money, power, allies. Well, I think we have power covered, at least," Harry said as he waved his hand and conjured a ball of fire. "But still, money and allies."

"Dumbledore," Neville suggested idly. And then both he and Harry burst into laughter.

"That was good, Neville. You even had me going for a second," Harry chuckled as he wiped his eyes.

After a few minutes, they both stopped snickering. "Really, though: what are we going to do about Dumbledore?" Neville asked.

"Stab him through the heart with the sword of Gryffindor?" Harry suggested idly. Neville stared at him in horror. "Too direct?"

"Too direct," Neville confirmed. "He is going to catch on to the fact that we're not normal first years."

Harry sighed. "Neville, you don't know him as I do. Yes, he will catch on, but it is not to his advantage to do anything. He is a firm believer in cost-benefit analysis. The cost of actually confronting us, when there is too high a probability that he either is completely wrong, or doesn't have enough evidence is too high for him stand. Just letting us be, when it appears we are merely odd, and not bent on World Domination, especially considering he has twenty other more-pressing priorities, is his only option. All we have to do is not show our hand, and pretend to be good little puppets for the next year or so." Harry paused. "Or we could stab him-"

"Too high profile Harry," Neville cut him off.

"Rats!" Harry moaned. "Either way, the Headbastard will not be an issue for a while. Anyway, back to a discussion of allies."

"Well, Susan Bones," Neville pointed out. "Amelia is still alive, and having an in with the Head of the DMLE could be-"

"Um, Nev; this is 1991. Right now, Amelia Bones is just a veteran auror about to be relegated to a desk jockey position," Harry corrected. "Still, if some things stay the same, then she may, one day, be the head of the DMLE. All right, Bones is someone to keep an eye on." Harry's eyes widened. "How are we going to deal with Luna?" he asked in a shocked whisper.

Neville jumped, and his heart skipped a beat. "She'll see right through us!" he gasped. "Do you think she'll-"

"No- Luna dances to her own beat, but she won't understand or accept what we're trying to do," Harry replied. "How about-"

"NO! No stabbing her with Gryffindor's sword! Honestly, what is it with you and that sword," Neville scolded.

"She's not just a sword," Harry defended. "She's a sword that has saved my life several dozen times, and yours, if I recall correctly. She's a way of life, if you will."

"She! Really, Harry; 'she'," Neville mocked. "At least you didn't give 'her' a name," he muttered.

Harry laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, funny that! Anyway, I suppose we need to cross the Luna Bridge when we get to it, because there is nothing we can do right now that would forestall her. I have to say, I really don't like taking a wait and see approach with Dumbledore or Luna."

"Neither do I," Neville agreed. "Still, as you said, there's no real benefit to forcing the issue with either of them." He thought for a second. "Do the Patils have any connections we can use?"

"Not that I know of," Harry answered. "But isn't Anthony Goldstein's dad a solicitor?"

"He might be, but I didn't know Anthony that well, and we almost never talked after graduation," Neville replied. "Any other ideas?"

"Any Slytherins you wouldn't feel dirty dealing with?" Harry asked.

Neville shrugged. "Maybe Davis. As I remember she was a pretty good student, though she had the half-blood thing working against her. Greengrass?"

"She was hot, as I remember," Harry confessed readily. "But that's about it. She was kind of sadistic, always hanging around with Parkinson, and she wasn't that great a student as I remember. And I have no idea what she got up to after Hogwarts."

"How about Ernie Macmillan?" Neville asked.

Harry paused. "He wasn't the most pleasant person, but he did have connections, and he was a good student," Harry replied after a moment's thought. "Maybe. Bulstrode?"

"Looked like a troll, thought like a troll, and acted like a troll," Neville responded. "At least, while she was in Hogwarts. After school, I heard she had some success doing… something or other in- Germany? Yes, it was Germany. Don't know how useful an ally she'd be," Neville concluded. "Any upper years who might prove useful?"

Harry pondered for a moment. "The only really talented Gryffindor upper years I remember were Bell and Johnson, and Angie had as nasty a falling out with George as I did with Ginny. Katie, well… I never found out what happened to her," Harry sighed. There was a tense silence for a moment, before Neville thankfully changed topics.

"Do you think Diggory could be a valuable ally?" Neville asked.

"Not really, no. He was a nice enough guy, but he was too into fair play for what we're doing," Harry responded.

Neville looked nervous, as if he was about to break apart an uneasy truce. "How about Percy?" he asked in a small voice.

Harry turned shapely to glare at him. "No!" he whispered, deathly serious.

"But-"

"No Weasleys, Neville- none. Savvy?" Harry whispered.

Neville visibly gulped at the look in Harry's eyes. "Savvy!" he replied in a high-pitched voice. "Hermione?"

"NO!" Harry snarled. "Neville, I've already told you, there is no "golden trio!"" He calmed down, and his voice returned to normal. "Please stop dredging up uncomfortable parts from my past?" Harry asked pleasantly.

"Sorry, Harry," Neville apologized. He switched topics to try and get away from the uncomfortable silence. "What house should we get sorted into? Same house, or split up?"

"Same," Harry answered immediately. "We can't afford to divide our resources and focus so early in the game," he explained. This must have made sense to Neville, because he nodded in acceptance. "Which house?"

"Hufflepuff?" Neville suggested. Harry and Neville burst into laughter once more. Once they stopped laughing Neville continued, "No, but seriously, how about Hufflepuff?"

Harry started laughing again. When he saw the serious look on Neville's face, he finally stopped. "Neville, Hufflepuff embodies hard work and loyalty. Hard work I could see, but loyalty? We're planning to tear the magical world down and dance in the wreckage! Plus, think of the reputation that house has. Sorry, but that is not happening," Harry finished. "Ravenclaw?" he suggested hopefully.

Neville stared at him. "Didn't both of us graduate Hogwarts by clinging to Hermione's notes?" he asked. "Plus, we can't be seen as boring old bookworms who'd rather hide in a corner of the library; we must be seen as men of action."

Harry sighed in defeat. "How about Slytherin?" he suggested dully. Neville just laughed. "Mate, I really, really, REALLY, don't want to be in Gryffindor this time around."

"I understand Harry," Neville replied. "I don't either. You remember how I had it in Gryffindor last time."

Harry grimaced, "So we won't be in Gryffindor. Hey, I hear that Ravenclaws get two person-dorm rooms. So if we bribe a house-elf…"

"I already said Ravenclaw isn't the right house for us-"

"Lockhart was a Ravenclaw, wasn't he?" Harry countered.

Neville paused. "On second thought, if he could be a Ravenclaw, then so could we. Besides, I really like the sound of two-person bedrooms. I hated the Gryffindor dorms, and Ron's snoring."

Harry didn't think that this was the right time to remind him that a lot of the snoring in their dorm back at Hogwarts came from Neville himself. Instead he decided to switch topics. "How should we handle the Ministry?"

Neville shrugged. "Full-scale revolution?" he suggested idly.

"As much fun as that would be, I actually don't want to spend the next few decades cleaning up Britain because we broke it. How about having a patsy elected as Minister?" Harry suggested.

Neville paused. "Who would our patsy be?" he asked, not agreeing with or disagreeing with Harry's idea… yet.

"Well, seeing as you brought up our former DADA professor…" Harry suggested.

Neville stared at him in horror. "You can't be serious?"

"No that's my godfather," Harry replied quickly. And then he frowned in thought. "Come to think of it, I'm going to have to bust him out at some point. Anyway…"

"Harry, Lockhart tried to obliviate you, he stole people's fame, and he's a ponce," Neville pointed out in succession.

"We have blackmail on him, he likes the limelight, and we can help his career," Harry countered.

"Do you really want to put Lockhart in a position of power?" Neville snarled.

"He's a better choice than Fudge, because we can easily control him," Harry replied. "Do you have a better suggestion?"

Neville thought for a second. "Could Amelia Bones make a run?" he asked.

"No," Harry answered. "As I said, she isn't even the head of the DMLE yet. She's just a veteran auror at this point. Anyone else?"

Neville sighed, but refused to admit defeat. "A Hogwarts professor, maybe?" he suggested meekly.

'McGonagall- no, Snape- no, Flitwick- yes, except he's forbidden to run under the Goblin treaty of 1846-, Dumbledore- hell no, and no one else at the school is well known enough to garner public support," Harry replied. "Face it Neville, there is no one else out there who we could work with. As much as it pains me to say it, Lockhart is our best option."

Neville sighed into the bed cover. "Harry, I know you hated that idiotic ponce, but I loathed him. Gran kept telling me that he was the kind of wizard I should aspire to be," Neville whined.

"Yeah, well…" Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Speaking of which, what the hell is up with you and your Gran. I mean you-"

"Leave it Harry," Neville snarled.

"But-"

"I left the Weasleys alone, didn't I?" Neville cut him off. "It won't be a problem."

"If you say so," Harry shrugged. They were both silent for a moment. "Do you have any gold saved up?"

Neville grimaced. "Not really. Gran is very… tight with money. She has some investments that pay, but still…"

Harry made a face. "Yeah, if I remember correctly, the wealth of the Potter family was nearly completely exhausted by the time ownership fell to me. It was only after the war that I was rich enough to buy my own country. Awards for services rendered to the crown, and all that. But still, I think I have just enough to make it through Hogwarts."

Neville sighed. "So should I put money down on the list of problems?"

"Nah, with our talents, money will be easy enough to get," Harry replied. "I mean, we know all the things that were invented in the next fifty years; all the good ideas."

Neville stared at him. "Harry you're not really going to…"

"Yes, Neville. Google, facebook, the Dark Knight, the I-phone, the I-pad, and any other decent idea- all mine," Harry cackled. He saw Neville staring at him in complete horror. "Money won't be a problem, Nev."

"Harry, you're going to…"

"How else did you think we were going to take over the world, Nev? Besides, just because I had and used one of their ideas idea doesn't mean that the same brilliant men can't think up new and different ways to change the world. At the end of the day, it's not copyright fraud, because they don't yet have a copyright, it's really, "For the Greater Good," Harry finished.

"Gee, we've been back one day, and already the "Greater Good" has returned," Neville groaned. "I thought, after all the shit Dumbledore put you through, that you-"

"Just because the man is an enormous arsehole doesn't mean he's a wrong enormous arsehole," Harry replied sweetly. "Besides, what is the Greater Good but tearing down the archaic Magical British government, and replacing it with a new, democratic system from which we will conquer the entire world?"

"Yes, but- you know what- I give up!" Neville declared, throwing his hands up in a gesture of defeat.

"Quitter," Harry replied, with a smirk on his face. "Neville, if we tackle all the things we already knew and were familiar with, than, innovation, and the free market, dictate that people must develop in different ways." Harry shivered. "Wow, just using that to support my argument makes me feel dirty. Got any Holy Water I can bathe in?"

Neville was silent. "If… if I do agree to the whole, using inventions from the future to achieve global dominance idea, I get a cut right."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No Neville, as my fifty-fifty partner in Potter-Longbottom Inc., and the only other person who knows my secret, and my second in command for operation "Take Over The World", you would not be entitled to your share," he said dryly.

Neville blushed. "Oh yeah, right." He smiled wistfully. "Neville Longbottom, part-inventor of face- no, not face- Potterbook."

"There will be no more Chuck Norris jokes!" Harry declared in mock-seriousness. "Instead, there shall be… Harry Potter jokes!"

"Harry Potter doesn't do a push-up, he pushes the world down!" Neville declared enthusiastically. His expression turned serious. "Can you really do it, though?" He saw Harry's expression of confusion. "I mean, can you really recreate those inventions from only your memory?"

Harry smiled. "No!" His smile grew slightly sinister. "But I can recreate those inventions from my memory, and a pensieve."

Neville looked like lightning had stuck him. "Of course! You spent hours examining and whatnot, but you can't remember it in detail can you? But with a pensieve…" he breathed in excitement. His face fell once more. "Where are you going to get a pensieve?"

Harry's smile grew wider. "Let's just say that this time; the Flamels won't be getting back there stone scot-free."

Neville stared. "You are going to blackmail the Flamels for their pensieve?" he whispered in a slightly hysterical voice. "They'll kill you, Harry!"

"They might try, but I don't think they'll succeed. After all, I am… "The master of death," he declared dramatically.

"Was that title ever actually worth anything, Harry, or was it just a namesake?" Neville asked.

"Who cares?" Harry responded airily. "But seriously, I think that I can make the Flamels an offer they can't refuse."

"Well, I know what your first project is going to be," Neville declared, "Getting movies working around magic."

"Damn right!" Harry agreed. "And second is going to be: the internet." He saw Neville's look. "I mean the modern version of the internet, except… with me as a kind of overlord administrator!"

"Okay Harry, now this is starting to sound a bit like _1984_," Neville replied.

Harry held his arms wide. "This is how you speak to Big Brother!" he asked dramatically, and Neville rolled his eyes. His expression turned serious. "That was just an idea I had on how to effectively rule my Empire," he said defensively.

"Wow, he's been in the "conquer the world" business for five minutes, and already he's thinking of how to rule his Empire," Neville narrated dramatically.

"Nev, you do not have the stomach to rule an Empire- especially a magical empire. No offense, but you're too soft," Harry replied. "We need some way to distract the masses from their daily problems which aren't our fault, so we can replace those problems with ones that actually are our fault."

"What have I signed on to?" Neville asked the ceiling. "Harry, could you please curb your megalomaniac tendencies; I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

Harry pouted. "Fine Neville, be that way. See if I care!" He got back underneath his covers. "I'll see you in the morning- be ready to plan!"

Neville's groan was the last thing Harry heard before he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: This story is finally back, as am I. The primary reason I delayed and delayed this chapter until it was previously wiped out shall be discussed at the end, if you're interested. But yeah, it's here. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and I don't own Harry Potter. Though if you actually thought I did, well, I guess someone took their gullibility potion this morning.

Chapter Three: Worst Wake-Up Call, Ever

Knock, knock, knock. Harry came out of his deep slumber, but he kept his eyes closed, wishing he could go back to sleep. Knock, knock, knock. Once upon a time he had thought that specific sound had marked the end of one of his greatest dreams, but he knew without a doubt, by the slightly acrid smell wafting into his nose, that this was no dream; he was at Neville's house. Knock, knock, knock.

Regretfully, he opened his eyes and glanced at Neville to see his time-traveling companion was still deep asleep. Stretching slightly, Harry threw back the covers and ambled to the door, intent on asking Madam Longbottom to come back later, maybe in two or three months time. Oddly enough, time-travel was a rather exhausting experience. Yawning, Harry opened the door, and immediately froze.

Standing before him was a young, though unmistakable- especially if the dirty blonde hair and silvery grey eyes were anything to go by- Luna Lovegood. Worse yet, she had a distinct frown on her face, and looked particularly unkempt wearing clothes she seemed to have just thrown on, a bad sign if there ever was one. Harry swallowed and his brain rebooted from the rather sudden system error it suffered. "Give us a minute please, Luna," Harry said with a forced smile on his face, and he instantly leapt back and slammed the door.

He nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get Neville up. "Neville, Neville, come on Neville, get up damnit!" Harry whispered frantically.

"Gran… ten more minutes," Neville muttered, somehow managing to turn over despite Harry's relentless attempts to nudge him awake. Finally, knowing full well that he'd regret this later, Harry drew back his hand and punched Neville in the face.

"Gahhh!" Neville shrieked startled, as he bolted upright and looked around frantically, before his eyes settled on Harry. "What the hell, Harry! What'd you do that for?"

"Neville, you're angry, you have right to be- Luna's at the door!" Harry explained hurriedly from his bed as he was hastily searching for his wand, before remembering he hadn't purchased one yet.

"So? Tell her to come back later," Neville replied confused.

"Okay Neville, it's clear you're not grasping the gravity of the situation. Luna. Is. Standing. Outside. Your. Bedroom. Door." Harry bit out.

"I can hear you, you know." Luna remarked airily through the bedroom door as Neville froze. He glanced at Harry and he nodded frantically. Neville gulped and looked faint.

"Oh. Fuck." He muttered as he dived over to his wardrobe and threw on a set of clothes while Harry snapped his fingers, finally remembering he was a wizard in the face of such a shock, and transfigured his clothes into a crisp business suit. Another snap and three soft armchairs appeared in the middle of the room, around a small wooden coffee table.

Harry and Neville quickly sat down. "Come in, Luna," Harry said, silently dreading this conversation, and hoping she wasn't in an explosive-castration hex mood, or worse yet, feeling up to using "The Devil's Sterilizer."

Luna entered and resealed the door while tapping it doorknob with her wand- oh, this was bad; she'd stolen her father's wand- that was a signal to the two boys that they weren't leaving the room in one piece if she didn't like what she heard. Harry nudged Neville, who summoned his elf and had it provide them with tea and assorted finger sandwiches before leaving them to their fate.

"So Harry," Luna's silver eyes bore into Harry's green orbs, and he felt like he was standing trial for the crime of the century, "What have you done now?" She asked airily.

"Okay, just a small point of dispute, I didn't do this, it just… happened," He saw he was about to be on the receiving end of a Luna special.

"All right, all right, calm down. Look, the other day, Neville arrived back home from his conference, right?" Luna nodded slowly. "So he came to my office, we had a quick chat, and then he left, or so I thought. A few minutes later, I receive a patronus telling me there's a break-in at the Department of Mysteries. Naturally I rush down there, but what I didn't know was that Neville was still in the building. Anyway, I quickly dispatch the two intruders, though Auror Wilson didn't make it," Luna nodded sadly; Stanley Wilson had been a friend of hers.

"The problem was that over the course of the duel, one of my opponents hid himself, probably seeing that he was overmatched, and so he wanted to send me off on a wild goose chase, or maybe catch me off guard. Anyway, I used my revealer and found him, and in my haste to dispatch him, I aimed a blasting curse far more powerful than I intended. I got the intruder but…" Harry sighed, "I also hit the cabinet of time-turners." Harry winced at her facial expression. "Last time, when those blasted things were all destroyed, the cabinet managed to contain the burst of time magic that came from the ruins, but this time, my blasting curse…"

"Anyway, I ran for it, but I couldn't outrun the residue, and I ended up back in time here. As I said, Neville was close by, so he's here now too. This isn't his fault Luna; I assume all blame," Harry declared. Neville winced and shot him a sympathetic look.

Luna took a sip of her tea, while fingering her wand. "So, how are we getting back?" she asked finally, curiosity evident in her tone.

"Back?" Harry asked.

"Back home, Harry. To our time," Luna clarified impatiently.

"Yeah, about that…" Neville muttered.

"Luna, when we thought it was just us, we kind of came up with a plan," Harry meekly remarked.

"What plan, Harry?" She asked sweetly in a chilling imitation of Dolores Umbridge's sugary voice.

"You won't approve, I can already tell," Her facial expression told him he better get around to an explanation or he wouldn't be walking anytime soon. "All right, we're back in time, correct?" Luna nodded patiently, though she was clearly frustrated. "Now you've written papers about this subject so you already know; our side really botched things against Voldemort. We eventually partially recovered of course, but…" Harry trailed off. "Anyway, as it happens, we're two time-travelers, two well-read, scholarly time-travelers, who were rather discouraged with the way our society was going. So, through an accident of epic proportions, one that's never before occurred in the annals of Wizarding History, one that I want to remind you wasn't intentional, we ended up back before everything went south."

Thankfully, Neville chose that point to jump in. "I was skeptical too, Luna. My first thought when I got here was- what about Hannah? What about the kids? So knowing what happened and resulted in this, I went off to find Harry."

"He met me at the Dursley's," Luna gave him a small, sympathetic smile, before it turned back into a frown, "Anyway, we were talking about our situation, or more accurately, I consulted our resident chronomancy expert."

"I told him that because the time-turners were destroyed, our connection to the past had effectively been severed," Neville chimed in.

"Yes, he did. And then he made the most asinine suggestion: he suggested we restrain ourselves from doing anything to mess with the time line," Harry concluded. "Of course, if the butterfly theory holds true, then our mere being back in the past has changed everything. Anyway, once he made that absurd suggestion, my response was: why?"

"I can see what's he's talking about, Neville, you clearly weren't in your right mind when you came up with that," Luna added helpfully and Neville shot him a betrayed look.

"Anyway, my point was that things sucked, and that, we literally have our whole future ahead of us right now. Here we are, coming from a time and place where things thought impossible a century ago are not only feasible, but commonplace, and better yet, we have the knowledge to recreate it."

He saw Luna's frown deepen. "Luna, we know the players, we know the pieces, we know Voldemort, we know Dumbledore, and most important of all, we know the consequences of failure." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Doesn't it intrigue that we're here, actually here, back in the past, no time paradoxes, but rather a timeline we can alternate at our own discretion." Okay, time to put hammer to anvil. "Aren't you here with your mother?"

Luna froze and went quite rigid. She sat, staring, quietly, at Harry, her expression completely blank. "I didn't think of that," she finally whispered. "Once I saw where I was- deduced what was going on…"

"You said she died when you were ten, after months of intensive care. What was it you said? 'Spell backlash, firecalling St. Mungo's, her being put in a medical coma in the hopes of achieving stabilization, nearly a year of hospitalization before she passed on?' Luna, she's not dead yet," Harry whispered. "You said she finally passed away in July; it's still June."

Luna began trembling slightly as she realized she had a chance- more than a chance; an opportunity, to right her greatest regret. Harry knew from times he spent with her and Rolf that she had always wondered how much better off her poor father would have been if only her mother had pulled through.

"Neville's delved into a lot of healing magic, hasn't he? And I'll be there, and the fact that I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, and thus it can be said that I'm getting started on my miracle working early, and that will only serve to keep the questions away. Besides, I might be able to help out. Either way, we'll just say I did it," Harry suggested.

Luna stared at him. "Harry," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly, "If you pull this off… whatever idiotic scheme you two were doing- I won't stand in your way. Please?" she begged. Harry nodded without hesitation.

"What time is it?" Harry asked hurriedly.

"Nearly nine," Neville replied glancing at his wall clock. "Gran will be up in an hour or so."

"Neville, write out a note, something about going to St. Mungo's without particulars. Maybe grab her moneybag while you're at it. We'll both need wands if we're going to pull this off. Luna, this will take maybe an hour of preparation, but we'll go to Mungo's after getting wands and see what we can do for her," Harry promised.

Thirty minutes later, after Neville wrote out the letter and stole the moneybag, they summoned and survived a ride on the Knight Bus, to enter Diagon Alley, where they now stood in front of Ollivanders.

"Good Afternoon," he greeted as they entered his shop.

"Afternoon, Mr. Ollivander. I am Harry Potter, and this is Neville Longbottom. The fates have been kind enough to inform me that we'll need to buy wands for the day's endeavor, and since we're both of Hogwarts age…"

"Ah yes." Neville and Luna shot him glances at his cover story. "I don't suppose the fates, er…" He looked especially hesitant to believe Harry's story.

"Your eleven inch Holly and Pheonix Feather wand will suffice for me, and as for Neville, thirteen inches made up of Cherry and Unicorn hair," Harry swiftly replied in a poor imitation of Sybill Trelawney's airy voice. One that, incidentally, didn't leave his throat feeling sore.

Ollivander, still looking hesitant, walked into his back room to retrieve those wands. "What's the deal, Harry?" Neville whispered harshly.

"We need a cover story, Nev. 'Harry the seer' was the best I could come up with. Besides, it'll help when people ask me to explain how I know X, in the future," Harry whispered back.

Ollivander walked back into the main of the shop and handed them both the wands they'd grown accustomed to over many decades of use. Two sets of sparks and several gold coins paid later, and they were on their way to St. Mungo's.

* * *

"Good Afternoon," Harry said as he walked up to the information counter in the lobby of the hospital. "We'd like to see Mrs. Selene Lovegood and Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom today."

"Names?" asked the bored sounding desk attendant.

"Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Harry Potter," Harry replied politely, pretending to not notice the woman's head rising, her sharp glance, and her gasp.

"Certainly. Fourth Floor. Spell damage. Janus Thickley Ward." She answered in quick succession.

"Thank you for your help Madam. Have a nice day," Harry finished with a slight bow and swiftly moved away.

"Harry, why did you ask for my parents?" Neville ground out angrily as they began making their way there.

"Neville, there were you reasons you delved into time magic: you were hoping to restore them to pre-attack condition, or, failing that…" Harry trailed off.

"I was trying to find a way to de-age them enough so I could use remedies that worked for those under forty," Neville whispered after a few moments of thought. "I found two ways, but their bodies just wouldn't have been able to handle it at they're advanced age."

"Luna's not going to be the only one rectifying her worst regret today, is she?" Harry asked as they finally arrived outside the ward. "Luna's mother is in the most worrisome condition, so let's work with her first," Harry said as they walked over to Selene Lovegood's bed. Luckily, the ward was empty except for the patients.

Even in her bedridden, comatose state she still looked a lot like the Luna they'd grown accustomed to in their time. The same dirty blonde hair, the exact same eyes- though they were staring listlessly at the ceiling-, the same figure, and the same facial structure. The differences were easy to spot with a simple glance at her body, as worn as she was after a year of being in a coma.

"Let me examine her first. I've always been better at diagnostics. Stand guard, please?" Harry asked as he withdrew his wand. Once Luna nodded, he began his examination as his two companions locked the door and warded the place to high heaven. "Hmm, lots of spell residue- why is this still here? Is healer incompetence a consistent trait no matter the time period? Hmm, nothing wrong, physically. No wait, looks like she's been pretty much put back together; seems like she could pass for Humpty Dumpty after his fall. But why the- ohh…"

Harry sighed. "Luna, I think I understand. Out of curiosity, did you know your mother spoke parseltongue?"

Luna frowned. "Harry, this is a poor time for a joke," she commented, obviously annoyed.

"I'm not joking, Luna. You know that when a person gets injuries like your mother, the healers simultaneously try and make them whole again while cleansing the magic from their system. They cleansed all normal magic from her system, but… I am detecting a large concentration of magic still in her body. Parselmagic, to be precise, and that is weakening her internal organs," Harry said. "It's bloody difficult to neutralize unless you know a parselmouth."

Luna started trembling. "You're sure? Do you know where we can find one, Harry?" She asked in a small voice.

"Luna, now who am I again? Say it with me: Harry James "The-Boy-Who-Lived" Potter. Slayer of the basilisk- does this ring any bells?" Harry replied without turning it around. "I don't even need to take a step to find one. Now let's see…" A look of dawning comprehension appeared on her face.

Harry began muttering quietly as he flicked his wand again and again at Selene Lovegood's body "All right, this should take a minute." Cocking his head, Harry raised his wand and began hissing as the tip glowed dark green, and then changed to yellow after a few moments while tendrils of green light appeared to travel from Mrs. Lovegood's body onto his wand tip.

After several long, tense moments with more and more tendrils of green light gathering at the dull yellow tip of Harry's wand, until it slowly began turning green again, Harry lowered his wand, sweat pouring down his face, and the ball of light dissipated into thin air. Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, Harry began casting more diagnostic spells.

"All right, I've gotten the parselmagic out of her system. It'll take two or three weeks of the normal healing regime for her to wake-up, but she will wake," Harry finished confidently. And then he was knocked off his feet for his trouble.

Even Hermione's most enthusiastic, most emotionally driven hugs did not seem to come close to the force of Luna's hug at that moment. "You're sure? You're really sure?" she breathed. Harry nodded wordlessly.

"By the time we head off to Hogwarts this year, she'll probably have finished rehabbing and return home. If you want, I'll give you an oath or something," Harry offered. He noticed Luna still hadn't let him go.

"Harry, whatever it is you two are doing, no matter how unscrupulous or detestable, even if it's taking over the bloody world, I won't stand in your way," she promised into his arm, still not letting him up. The two stayed like that for several moments before Neville coughed delicately and Luna came to her senses with a blush on her face.

"All right Neville, do you want to handle this?" Harry asked. Neville turned and stared at the beds where his parents lay. He remained glassy eyed for several moments, as he appeared to be in deep thought.

Finally, he sighed and shook his head. "You know the method I intend to use, don't you? Because I don't think I can- I don't have enough… I'm not-"

"Neville… you can do it," Harry replied. "You know the ins and outs of this method, and what you're trying to do. This is important to you. Deep down, you really want to do it, but you're afraid that if you screw up, you personally we be as responsible for failing as everyone else who tried and failed. I think you should do it."

Neville swallowed and turned to look at his parents again. He gulped nervously and nodded after another few moments of consideration. Harry and Luna moved to the sides of the door as Neville moved in front of his father's bed and raised his wand.

It took a considerably longer amount of time for Neville to heal his parents than it did for Harry to stabilize Mrs. Lovegood. Thankfully, at the two hour mark, Neville, with sweat pouring down his face, finally lowered his wand and stepped back. "I… think I did it!" he muttered, his tone conveying how simply amazed he was at achieving such a feat. "It'll take some time to know for sure, maybe a month or two, but…"

He was interrupted by a heavy knocking on the sealed door. Harry flicked his wand and unsealed it to admit the panicked healer.

"What're you kids doin' here?" The Healer roared, spraying spittle on Luna, who was closest to him.

"Apologies, sir. I was brought in as an expert to advise on the Lovegood and Longbottom cases," Harry replied.

"An' who the bloomin' hell are you?" The Healer was still shouting.

"Again, I apologize. You see, I'm Harry Potter and-" as expected, the mere mention of his name was enough to stop the healer mid-tirade. Instead, the Healer starred at him, eyes wide, mouth agape, and Harry lifted up his bangs to show his scar. "As I said, I was brought in to as a consultant. If I may sir, I have done what I can and you should continue with potions regimen. I estimate both cases should be resolved before the fall equinox."

"You're- you're serious!' The Healer gasped. "Mr. Potter, it's an honor, sir, but how is such a thing-"

"With the Inner Eye, anything is possible, my good man," Harry replied wisely. "But I daresay we have intruded enough. Come Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Lovegood, let us leave our colleague Mr. McAllister," Harry knew his name from dealing with the often irate Healer in the future, "We do have other places to be, after all."

* * *

Neville waited until they were journeying up the path back to Longbottom Manor before he finally spoke what both he and Luna had been thinking. "Harry, That. Was. Brilliant," he congratulated happily.

"You're making good use of your seer excuse," Luna pointed out with a smile. Her expression changed. "So what exactly did I agree to back you two on, exactly?"

Any answer they could have given was cut off by the door being violently pulled open. "Where have you two been? Why is moneybag gone?" Augusta Longbottom shouted, before she noticed Luna was with them. "And who is this, Neville!" She shrieked.

Neville was about to reply, being used to dealing with his stern grandmother, when Harry beat him to the punch. "Madam Longbottom, I apologize for our absence, but the Inner Eye was very specific in what it demanded," Harry replied in a serene voice.

Madam Longbottom's expression softened. "You're a seer?" she asked.

Harry drew back, as if he'd been slapped. "Such terms do not define the gift, madam," he answered in a pained voice. "But Neville and the young lady with us required my aid. If it is such a problem for you, then-"

"No, no, not at all, Master Potter. I am sure that the Inner Eye had its reasons. I simply…" she trailed off.

"I understand, madam, and I do not take offense, but it is the Inner Eye that wishes for you to not presume what it can and can not do," Harry replied. "Interestingly, the Inner Eye led us to St. Mungo's. Before the fall equinox, your son and daughter-in-law shall recover, Madam. And I will happily repay you for the expenses incurred in the process."

Augusta led Harry away to hear more details of their recovery, leaving Neville and Luna shaking their heads and sighing.

AN Part 2: The real problem I initially had with posting this chapter was how to properly work in Luna's mother. The thing is, Harry has traveled back to Dudley's eleventh birthday, which is June 23 of 1991.

Just for a second, I'd like to point out that the opening of the third chapter of book one is something to the effect of, "By the time Harry was let out of his cupboard, the summer holidays had arrived." Now I'm an American, and thus, mostly unfamiliar with British schooling, but seeing as it was already summer, I can't imagine that the summer holidays could have been too far away. And yet the canon punishment sounds like, "Harry was locked in his cupboard and only allowed out for chores and school for the next few weeks/months." To me, it sounds like his being restricted was a week at most- which is still absolutely terrible of course, but- I mean it is a week in his cupboard is a week where Dudley can't go Harry Hunting, right? And the Dursley's couldn't have kept him but so locked up or school officials and truancy officers would have descended upon them, which was something to be avoided at all costs for the sake of appearing normal, right?

Anyway, back to my plot problem. HP-Lexicon lists her birthday as, at the latest May 2nd of 1981. So when the story resumes, she's ten, and since her mother died in canon, nothing can be done. Well, my solution was to have the spell backfire, but have her brought to Mungo's in critical condition, and linger for a year and change. If Harry doesn't travel back, she still dies, and the point is moot, but in this case… well, it was a compromise I could live with. I just hope you can live with it as well.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been working on everything else while I had a bit of a block with this fic. Hopefully, it's all cleared up now. Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, and I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter Four: The Seer and the Charlatan

"How exactly do you have her eating out of your hand?" Neville asked, completely exasperated. Dinner that night had seen Augusta Longbottom treat Harry as an honored guest: trying to cook his favorite foods, asking if everything was satisfactory every few minutes, and completely ignoring Neville. This was just fine with him, as an evening of his Gran ignoring him made for a good early Christmas present. Or perhaps several dozen Christmas's worth of presents. Still, Harry's ability to somehow charm his grandmother needed to be addressed.

Harry shrugged from where he was lying on the bed in Neville's room. "Believe it or not, she acts a lot like Molly Weasley," he answered. "And you know how much experience I had dealing with her."

Neville chuckled sadly from the edge of his bed. "Even when her only daughter divorced you and ran away with Michael, you still couldn't do any wrong in her eyes."

"Yeah, well, like I said, I have practice," Harry replied uncomfortably. "How's Luna doing?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"She seemed well," Neville replied. "She was pretty tired so she went home to tell her father the good news." He was silent for a moment. "I have no bloody idea how it's so easy for you to pretend to be a seer." Neville half asked, half commented.

"Well for one, I was in class with a real seer for a number of years, even if her manifestation of the Inner Eye or whatever it's called was rather weak. Number two; I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. I could say the sky is purple, and Wizarding World would believe me. Number three, I know enough about people to pull it off. How they operate, what they react to. Like tonight, I was telling your Gran various things, like her birthday and her favorite food that she knows she never told me. The, 'I'm a seer' explanation seems to fit pretty well then, doesn't it? What is the alternate explanation for knowing things like that? Finally, anything I don't know, I can just say something like 'the inner eye hasn't gifted me with that information.' Neville, I know the mannerisms, I know how to act- I can pull it off," Harry assured him.

Neville shook his head. "Only you, Harry. Only you," he muttered. "So what's the plan for making Potter-Longbottom-Lovegood Inc a reality?"

"Potter-Longbottom-Lovegood Inc.?" Harry asked. "When did she-"

"She said she wouldn't stand in our way," Neville pointed out. "Besides, with your evil charisma, it shouldn't be any problem to convince her, should it?"

"You really want Luna in on this?" Harry asked. That seemed rather… un-Neville like.

Neville nodded. "You think Luna wouldn't jump at the chance to be part of our magical empire? You really don't?" he asked incredulously. "She knows she can't beat us, so why wouldn't she want to join us?" Neville lowered his voice and began a poor Darth Vader imitation. "She'll join us or die. She can not resist the power of the Dark Side."

"Sorry Neville- it sounded nothing like James Earl Jones." Harry declared idly. "But anyway, onto our plans-" He dropped his voice and Neville leaned forward eagerly.

"We have begun phase one. The word is out that I'm a seer, and by this time tomorrow, people will know, preventing delays in our plans that could come from demands for explanation. Additionally, with our healing adventure this morning/afternoon, it will also soon be public knowledge that I'm a prodigy of the highest order. Now then, step three involves a meeting with Gilderoy Lockhart. To that end, I mailed a letter to him telling him to meet us in the Three Broomsticks tomorrow at 1:30," Harry finished.

"You've really thought it all through, Harry," Neville muttered. "So how exactly are we going to acquire the necessary financial backing? I mean, you and I are okay, financially, but not anywhere near where we should be in order to pull this off," Neville pointed out.

"Well, part of my plan to rectify that involves our healing expedition. When your parents and Luna's mother walk out of Mungo's healthy and whole, people are going to think I'm a miracle worker, and invite me to oversee their cases. Between you, me, and Luna and our three hundred plus years of experience, we can probably find remedies in most cases, which will in turn boost our reputation and fill our coffers." Despite himself, Neville nodded, thoroughly impressed.

"Another part of my plan involves the promotion and distribution of my inventions, but we'll worry about that when we get to Hogwarts. A third part involves the recreation and distribution of new spells and potions, but again, we'll worry about that later. After all, who'd buy a Potter-Longbottom-Lovegood… you know what, I'm just going to refer to it as P-L-L, anyway, who'd buy one of our products unless we've proved that they work? But, by having a reputation as miracle worker… then everything falls into place. But in the meantime, we really need to get investing in Microsoft," Harry finished.

"Microsoft? Oh, Microsoft," Neville smiled. "I assume you have a plan."

"Assume away, Neville. But we're in for a long day tomorrow. You told Luna where to meet us tomorrow?" Harry asked as he removed his glasses. A wave of his wand and his suit, which he was still wearing, changed back into pajamas.

"Three Broomsticks, 1:30," Neville recited. "She is going to have questions and concerns," he pointed out.

Harry drew back the covers and got into his bed. "Of course she is, Neville. But tomorrow is going to be a long day. After all, meeting with Lockhart is just the beginning, and there should be plenty of time to answer her questions and abate her concerns," Harry explained. He snapped his fingers, dousing the lights. "Or at least, apply as many Obliviations as needed," he muttered to the darkened room before falling asleep.

* * *

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Lockhart. I am Harry Potter, and these are my companions, the lovely Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom," Harry said, taking a sip of his butterbeer. He saw Lockhart fidgeting slightly.

Luna, Neville, and Harry were sitting to one side around the table, and Lockhart was sitting on the opposite side, while Luna had her wand pointed at him, Neville was finishing off the privacy protections, and Harry was smiling calmly at Lockhart. He took another sip.

"Now, from the content in the letter you received from us, you know that we know that your many varied heroic feats are- how shall we say?- not yours," Harry finished. "What you probably haven't realized at this point is that this isn't the purpose of the meeting."

"Umm, what isn't the purpose of the meeting?" Lockhart asked, completely confused.

"Us exposing you and your misdeeds," Harry replied. He saw Lockhart stiffen, and thrust a hand into his jacket pocket. Harry lazily swiped his wand and froze him in place. "Perhaps you didn't understand me. We," he gestured at himself, Luna, and Neville, "Don't care about your use of memory charms or stealing credit for other people's work."

Lockhart found himself able to move again. "You don't?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "But you're Harry Potter! Aren't you a defender against injustice and a champion of right and wrong and all that?"

"Gilderoy, Gilderoy, when you start worrying about little things like right and wrong, you let Death Eaters and the Ministry win," Harry explained patronizingly. "Granted, we would start to care in a hurry if you actually did it to us, but publicizing the accounts of a few ugly Eastern European wizards is far below our notice. What isn't below our notice, however, is how popular you are."

"You see Mr. Lockhart, we are people of vision. Oddly enough, you know have a place in that vision… Minister Lockhart," a genuine look of surprise flashed across his face before it was replaced by his normal poncey smile. "Of course, such an occurrence is far off."

"How far off?" Lockart asked with a dreamy smile on his face.

"Even farther off if you keep doing that," Harry replied. Thankfully, the dreamy look disappeared. "Anyway, there are things that need to happen. For instance, next year, you will be offered a job teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Things will get a little dicey during that year, but rest assured, we have it under control. Anyway, you need to impress people as a DADA teacher, and that's why I want you to spend the year between now and then reviewing all of the Defense material you can find, and perhaps taking some teaching courses. Act like the Ravenclaw you are, in other words," Harry explained.

"Wait, wait wait! I have to teach?" Lockhart spluttered indignantly. "I'd be a bloody awful teacher!"

"Well, the Hogwarts board of governors will contract you for the job, and with such a boost in your book sales, I bet you couldn't say no," Harry explained. "Let me assure you that this will happen and you will be teaching at Hogwarts next year. When that happens, think less about book sales, and more about making long-term fans who'd then go out and buy the next seven books you publish, or better yet, your autobiography once you become Minister."

Lockhart was smiling again, which served to annoy Harry, who was starting to feel particularly unclean for having this conversation. "Also, make sure to know your books back to front. It wouldn't do to… forget details in front of a class of enquiring minds."

"Now then, onto the Ministry. After the events of the second year, the Ministry will contact you, and you will steadily rise in the ranks. At a certain point, you will be within reach of the position, when your good friends, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood, will throw their support behind you. The cost of such an action is rarely free, and this is no exception. But, we'll deal with that later, after your 'successful' year of teaching Defense," Harry finished. "Any questions?"

"Are you all for real?" Lockhart asked curiously.

"Yes, of course we are. We are people of vision, and our vision could include Minister Gilderoy Lockhart. We can make it happen," Harry explained. "The question is: are you willing to work with people of vision?"

"Yes!" Lockhart squeaked, clearly enamored with the opportunity before him. "So all I have to do is better know my books, invent explanations and the like, and brush up on my defense knowledge and teaching!" Harry nodded. "Sign me up, Mr. Potter."

"Wonderful, Gilderoy. Now there is one last thing- a precautionary measure, I assure you," Harry announced.

Lockhart looked nervous all of a sudden. "I knew there was catch," he muttered. "It sounded too good to be bloody true."

"Gilderoy, all we require is a show of faith." Harry passed over a piece of parchment. "On that piece of paper is a Gringotts vault. Please deposit one thousand galleons in it, which you will receive back in four years time. We just need to know that you are willing to trust us, even if it inconveniences you," Harry explained.

"You're hitting me up for money, aren't you?" Lockhart shouted indignantly.

'Wow, the ponce figured it out' Harry thought. To Lockhart, he adopted a frosty exterior. "Excuse me, Mr. Lockhart!" he whispered in a Snape-like tone. "You think we, which includes me, the heir to the Potter fortune, along with Mr. Longbottom, the heir to the Longbottom fortune, are hitting you up for money?" Harry asked incredulously. Lockhart seemingly wilted underneath his glare. "We merely wished to make sure that you were willing and able to support us, and not betray us by asking for collateral, but if that seems too tough a task…"

"No, no, no!" Lockhart backtracked. "I don't mean- I hadn't meant-… you know what, I think I'll deposit five thousand galleons in the account just to make sure you know we're a partnership!" Lockhart promised in a high pitched voice, scared at seeing his dreams for the future possibly go up in flames.

Harry pretended to consider for a moment. "That is acceptable, Mr. Lockhart. Though I do hope these dramatic episodes won't be a commonplace occurrence over the course of our alliance."

"No! Not at all! I wouldn't want-" Lockhart spluttered.

"Don't worry, Mr. Lockhart. All is forgiven," Harry soothed. "Now I hope you'll forgive us, but we must be on our way, and I imagine you have other places to be."

"I do," Lockhart declared. "I want to thank you and your associates for giving me this opportunity. I won't let you down," he promised.

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry replied. Neville dropped the privacy wards as they began to get up. "We'll be in contact, Mr. Lockhart. Until then, be well."

Once they made it out of the pub and apparated away back to Longbottom Manor, and then retreated to Neville's room, they could finally begin maligning Lockhart.

* * *

"So now that Lockhart is joining us in whatever it is you idiots are planning, would you mind explaining to me now exactly what it is you're planning?" Luna asked politely shortly after they'd finished verbally ripping the man apart. Neville and Harry exchanged glances.

"Yeah, sure," Harry replied, taking a sip of his drink. Man did he love coca-cola. It was like a gift from Merlin. "What do you want to know?"

"Are you two trying to take over the world?" She asked bluntly. Neville and Harry choked on their drinks. Neville glanced over at him, and he shook his head.

"No," Harry answered. "I mean, take over the world? When did I ever want to be an evil puppeteer holding everything by it's strings?" He took a sip. "I would say however that we are trying to… make our fortune once more."

Luna's eyes narrowed. "You don't want to take over the world, but you are consorting with Lockhart, and pretending you're a seer to market yourself?" She asked incredulously.

"Oh, we don't want to take over the world." He paused, "We do, however, think that there are things we could do better."

"Like?" Luna pressed sweetly.

"All right; long story short. I came back accidently- time turner accident. The same accident sent him back as well," He said, gesturing towards Neville. "At first, he was committed towards trying to keep everything the same; who even knows how that would have worked? Anyway, I convinced him that this was an opportunity unparalleled, that knowing what we know, we can chart out a much better future. That this could be the dawning of a new millennia for the wizarding world. He eventually came to see my point of view."

"He's pretty damn charismatic, as you know," Neville agreed. "Anyway, we were just in the planning stages of this operation when you arrived, but basically, we are transposing everything we knew to this time."

"Transposing? But you said Microsoft and…-oh," She shook her head. "You're also going to take credit for the ideas of others. It's no wonder colluding with Lockhart didn't put a bad taste in your mouth."

"Yup," Harry chirped brightly. "Think about it Luna. All of the possibilities. Your favorite movies sponsored by us. Corporate power in our grasp. A complete monopolization of the technology market. Think of all those lovely possibilities. Forget Luna Lovegood- loony, that crazy girl, whatever else- now you can be a part of PLL. Potter, Longbottom, Lovegood. It can all be ours."

"And I thought you said you didn't want to take over the world," She replied sadly. "You know, the second you start playing the market, you'll probably shift things against you badly."

"Nope. Specific-timed investments. Microsoft is the start. And Lockhart has the honor of financing us," Harry explained. "After that, we'll have enough start off money that playing the market won't be necessary. But rather a fun pastime."

"So you're both working together to rewrite the future with you two in the roles of effective overlords-"

"Actually, I've pretty much accepted my place in life as the best number two money can't buy," Neville defended.

"-Stealing ideas from the future from the people who hadn't even invented them yet, and you're doing all this with smiles on your face as you slowly buy up the world?" Luna asked incredulously. "That's… brilliant," She finished finally. "I wish I'd thought of something similar much earlier and beaten you two to the punch."

Neville's mouth fell open- he didn't think it would be this easy- as Harry grinned. "See. I knew you'd understand. We're on our way, Luna. The only thing that can stop us is a lack of capital, and we're working on that. Join us. You know you want to."

"You have cookies, I presume?" She asked dramatically. Harry nodded eagerly. She smiled. "Then I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership."


End file.
